The Trap
by KrazieKat
Summary: Draco plans a trap for Harry, one no one expects.
1. Setting The Trap

_**Disclaimer**: Harry Potter, et al belong to J. K. Rowling. _

**Author's Notes:** Flames will be used to make S'mores. Thanks to Cynthia, LD, and Josie for their support 

The Trap: Setting the Trap  
by KrazieKat 

Ever since I first saw him, I wanted him, lusted after him.... wanted him as mine. By "he," I mean the legendary "Boy Who Lived," the youngest Seeker in nearly a century, my classmate, Harry Potter. And I know my father would love to see his family's bloodline merged with ours. 

Did I forget to introduce myself? So sorry. Draco Malfoy, of House Slytherin, seventh year student of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I come from a long and historic line of witches and wizards, and nary a Muggle among them. 

What? What's a Muggle? That's easy, simpleton. A human that doesn't have magic, of course. 

Of COURSE magic's real, idiot. I wouldn't be talking to you about it if magic weren't real! Ugh, what are they teaching at your school? 

Since you seem to have it sunk into you that's magic isn't real, let's get a few things straight. Hogwarts is a seven year school, where the students learn the basics of witchcraft and wizardry, hence it's name of "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry" if you didn't figure that out, pea brain. As for Harry Potter, he's the sole survivor of Voldemort, a.k.a. You-Know-Who, a.k.a. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Voldemort is a wizard that learned the darker arts, and tried to take over the wizarding world. My parents, the morons that they are, were supporters of Voldemort until he disappeared after killing off Harry's parents. Then they tried to claim that they had been bewitched. Not like anyone believed them... and if anyone did, they're idiots. 

But let's get back to the reason I'm talking to you at all. Harry Potter, and my plan to make him mine. I know for a fact that he hasn't even been kissed, much less gone much further. That's why I- 

Another question? If you don't stop interrupting me for your questions, I won't be able to finish this story. But, I'll answer this one. Why is that important? Because there's a very good reason why you won't find wizards or witches that sleep around. If they do, they lose their power, unless married. And many a wizard and witch has chosen death over living life as a Muggle. 

And that's the whole of my plan. The graduation celebration has always included alcoholic drinks, but in moderation. My Slytherin housemates are willing to go along with my plan, but they don't know why I suggested it. They don't know my real goal; they think I just want to humiliate House Gryffindor. But if my plan works, by tomorrow morning, Harry Potter will be mine, forever. 

***

Harry smiled as Ron told some joke, but his heart wasn't into it. Or rather, his heart and mind weren't. They were too occupied, both wondering where Draco Malfoy was, but for very different reasons. The former was screaming that Malfoy was up to something, while the later wanted to see his love again. 

Yes, Harry Potter, the famous "Boy Who Lived", Hogwarts student of Gryffindor house, was in love with Draco Malfoy, Slytherin. He had admitted it to himself during the sixth year, but had kept quiet on his feelings, not sure how his housemates would react. Slytherin usually dated and married Slytherin. Look at Draco's parents. The Malfoys had both been in Slytherin when they had attended Hogwarts. 

_They're probably expecting me to start dating and marry Hermione. But she's like a sister to me._ Harry sighed, then realizes that the classmate he had just been thinking about was speaking him. "I'm sorry, what, Herm?" 

The Muggle-born witch sighed, then asked, "Didn't you hear anything I was saying, Harry? I said that House Slytherin seems to be staying in their tower tonight. I was wondering what they were planning." 

"Don't borrow trouble-" Harry started, then cut off as the missing seventh years appeared _en masse_. 

Harry's heart jumped at seeing the pale frame of Draco entered, dressed impeccably in black, followed by Crabbe and Goyle. He tried to not let his feeling show, but something must have, because Ron asked, "Are you okay, Harry? You got this strangest expression on your face, like you just swallowed a live toad.... you didn't swallow Neville's toad, did you?" 

"No, Ron, I'm okay. I just got a sneaking suspicion Malfoy's up to something," Harry said. 

"Harry, that's redundant," Hermione said. "Malfoy's ALWAYS up to something." Ron nodded in agreement. 

Harry didn't say anything, but thought, _But there's something more going on... and it has to do with me, I got a bad feeling about this._

***

Things are going perfectly. No one saw the wizard alcohol being slipped into the punch, or that no one from Slytherin is drinking the punch. I managed to impress that into Crabbe and Goyle's minds, even though I nearly feared I'd have to use a hammer. But they're vital to my plan, they'll make sure that Harry's friends don't interfere with my plans for tonight. So far, they remembered that the punch was... how do you Muggles put it, "spiked"? They remembered that the alcohol was poured into the punch, and have been drinking only from the bottles of butterbeer that all of my Slytherin housemates brought. 

But it seems that no one else thought to bring their own drinks. My, my, how easy they're making this. Already, I can see Harry blinking at his friends while they're laughing at some stupid joke of Weasley's. The (literally) poor fool was probably too broke to get a recent joke book, that joke was old when Dumbledore was a first year student. I thought about going ahead and making my move towards Harry now, but caution took over, telling me to wait until my green-eyed love finished another cup of punch. 

I watched several others totter unsteadily back to the punch bowl, and realized that Longbottom was watching Weasley longingly. Well, well, well, what do we have here? Another unrequited love? Maybe I should help him. A smirk settled into place as I stood up from the wall I was leaning against, then made my way over. 

Longbottom had come a long way since seven years ago. Back then, he had been the nervous runt of the Griffindor family, the smallest of his classmates. He was still nervous, but with time, he grew until he was among the tallest of the seventh year Gryffindors, and he had discovered, or at least developed some steel in his backbone, and I'm not sure who was more shocked, Longbottom himself or his grandmother, who had been in charge of raising the young man. The old woman recently passed away this year, and Longbottom had been hit deeply by her death. 

"Going to do anything?" I drawled. 

The young man jumped and whirled to face me, and I reached out to steady Longbottom. "D-do anything?" he asked, blinking drunkenly. He must have had several cups of punch, because even with my help he was weaving. 

"About Weasley," I replied, smirking. "I saw you staring at him, probably mentally undressing him." The flush that colored the boy's cheeks wasn't all alcohol induced, so my wild guess must have been on target. He mumbled something, and my smirk grew. "I'm sorry, what was that? I don't speak mutter." 

The blush grew, until Longbottom's face was nearly as red as his crush's hair, but the Gryffindor spoke up. "It's none of your business." 

I smirked at him. "Oh, but we have something in common, Longbottom." That jerked the young man into staring at me. "We both love someone that's totally oblivious to our affection. But I've got the balls to do something about it..... do you?" The challenge was audible in my tone as well as my question, and Longbottom's eyes blazed in answer to my question. Without saying a word, he turned and marched over to Weasley. 

My smirk grew as Longbottom planted his lips on Weasley's, and snickered as the redhead pulled back in shock. The noise of the party covered what they said, but the look of surprise was priceless. Longbottom deflated, and started to turn away, but then Weasley reached out, and turned the taller young man to him, pulling him down for a deep kiss. I think I saw tongue action, but I'm not sure. 

All that left was... I turned, and my smirk grew. Problem number two was already curled up in a corner, asleep. Hermione was clutching something to her, and I had a sneaking suspicion it was a Weasley photo, but not a wizard photograph of a MALE Weasley. I know that she had a photograph somewhere in her trunk, Crabbe saw her put it there one night. But if Hermione was asleep, dreaming of HER redheaded love, and Longbottom and Weasley were involved in finding each other's tonsils, I guess it was time to start my move, so I headed for The Boy Who Lived. 

He didn't seem to notice my presence as a housemate of mine pressed another cup of punch into his hand, but when the girl turned away, we shared a smirk. But I was surprised when he spoke first. "I know you spiked the punch, Draco." 

"_Moi?_ Surely you must be mistaken, Potter. I was no where NEAR the punch bowl." 

"I didn't mean you as in you alone, but you and the others from Slytherin. Otherwise, Neville and Ron wouldn't be trying to suck each others' faces down, like two dementors trying to suck the other's soul out." I snickered at the amusing image that brought up. but was started at the reaction my snickering got. "THAT'S NOT FUNNY!" Harry roared, lunging to his feet. 

My eyes widened in shock and my breath caught in my throat. Even enraged, he was beautiful. But in the next minute, he was swaying dangerously, and I caught him before he starting a nosedive towards the floor. "You're drunk," I said needlessly. 

He mumbled something about no excretement and that Muggle singer, Cher's, lock. Only reason I know about the American Muggle was because he was known to sing her songs in the shower. Apparently, he loves her music, especially one about turning back time. 

"Come on," I said. "I'm getting you out of here before you pass out." Crabbe and Goyle, usually thick-witted and missing the obvious, caught on that I was making my move on Harry, and stood ready to help or hinder as needed. The green eyed beauty in my arms was too drunk to fuss as I lead him to the doorway of the Great Hall, then I began stirring him towards Slytherin tower, Crabbe and Goyle trailing behind. He didn't even notice when we stopped before the bare stone wall and I uttered the password. "Mandrake." As always, the wall opened up and let us in. 

I helped Harry into the Slytherin common room, then down the stairs to my bedroom. He looked around blearily, and slurred, "Where are we?" 

I smiled, really smiled, and answered, "My bedroom, where else?" I didn't add that Crabbe and Goyle shared the two beds, I didn't think it would be necessary, considering that they'll be stationed outside the door, tonight. Not even Peeves would be disturbing us. Of course, he was terrified of the Bloody Baron, but that's neither here or there. 

"'S'cool," he slurred, looking around. 

I smiled gently, my heart going wild at the thought of him approving of my room.... or even being in it. "I'm glad you think so. But you need to lay down." I eased Harry onto the bed, but was surprised to find myself pulled forward, until my lips met his, but I didn't hesitate in taking advantage of Harry's initiative. 

Pressing him back into the bed, I let my tongue lick and stab at Harry's lips, until they parted to let me explore the depths of his mouth. I took my time, memorizing every single inch and centimeter of his mouth, loving it, and from the sounds he made, my love was enjoying it as well. I broke the kiss when we were both out of air and panting, and I licked at his lips teasingly. 

I opened his student robe while nibbling on his neck, and got a pleasure filled moan in response. The moan shot through me, piercing through my heart, and straight for my cock. God, I wanted to hear, dreamed of hearing it, and now I was. It was like heaven. I kept nibbling on his delicious neck as I worked him out of his clothes. 

But even as I was doing that, I noted somewhere in the back of my mind that he was like a drug. The more I got of Harry Potter, the more I wanted. And I wanted all of him. And I was going to get what I wanted. But first to make sure that he wanted me. I managed to remove his robe and shirt, plus open his pants, but before going any further, I asked him, "Do you want this?" 

The answer I got rather surprised me. With an animalistic growl, the green eyed young man pulled me up for another kiss, this time HE was the aggressor, licking, stabbing, exploring. I broke the kiss with a chuckle, then purred, "I take that as a yes?" The needy moan that answered my question as I rubbed against him was all I wanted or needed. I finished removing Harry's clothes, then stood over him for a bit, watching him, wondering if my eyes were glowing. "You're beautiful," I breathed softly. 

Before Harry could answer, I stripped off my clothes, then started to slid back up Harry, pausing the nip and nibble at his rather heated arousal. THAT caused such a delicious moan that I couldn't resist doing it again, adding a lick. His reaction was to buck his hips forward and to give a needy whimper. "Please, Draco...." 

My eyes widened, it was the first time I heard my name coming from his lips, there was no WAY I could resist, so I granted his request, doing my utmost best to pleasure him. By his moans, groans, and pleading, he didn't mind that it was my first time doing so. And his pleasure was thrilling me, knowing that all of those sounds of pleasure were caused and called forth by MY efforts. 

But thoughts like that fled out of my mind, when we finally joined, after much painstaking care to make sure my love was stretched out and thoroughly lubricated. All I could think about was how hot, how tight.... how all mine, untouched except by me. And when it was over, that's what I purred into his ear as we snuggled together, drifting off into sleep. "Mine....." 

***

The professors of Hogwarts stared over the sleeping bunches of seventh year students, frowning. The Slytherin were conspicuous in their absences, and Snape, head of House Slytherin seemed particularly upset. "I thought you charmed an imp to make sure that no one would slip wizard alcohol into the punch this year," he snapped at Flitwick, the Charms teacher. 

"I did," the short wizard replied. "Someone turned it to stone." He motioned to the short squat pile of granite beside the punchbowl, then pulled out his wand, complaining about messy work. 

On the other side of the room, Professor McGonagall, head of House Gryffindor, was searching the room, frowning. "Something's wrong here, very wrong," she muttered. "There's someone missing." 

Her eyes widen, and she nearly shouted, "POTTER!" The student around her groaned and stirred as the other professors stared at her. "Potter is missing," she said. "He's not here." 

A thorough search of all of the gradually rousing students revealed no trace of Potter, but a clue was gained when Neville mentioned Draco. "He said something about loving someone who doesn't know it, and have the balls to do something about it." He blushed, glancing at Ron, but the teachers just stared at each other in horror. 

"He wouldn't," McGonagall whispered, then took off for Slytherin tower. Snape was right on her heels, and gave the wall the appropriate password. Even if the Potions master hadn't known it, they would have gained entrance anyways, judging at the swiftness the doorway opened. Even the inanimate quailed before _that_ look. 

They ran straight up to Malfoy's room, going right past the sleeping Crabbe and Goyle, but it was already too late as Potter and Malfoy shouted out together in pleasure, then cuddled together. 

"Oh, Malfoy, what have you done?" 

To be continued 


	2. Springing the Trap

**__**

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all don't belong to me. Gads, I'd be rich if they did... then again, people would probably hate me because I'd have all the characters as gay or at least bisexual. So maybe it's better that the characters belong to J. R. Rowlings 

**__**

Author's note: If you've gotten this far, then you should have read the first part. You need it to understand what's going on. I think. 

****

The Trap: Springing the Trap   
by: Kraziekat

Harry fidgeted nervously outside of Dumbledore's office, flinching as McGonnagal and Snape's voices rose loud enough to carry through the heavy oak door. Their voices were so loud that even the silence charms put on the door couldn't keep their arguing tones down, although it did completely muffle what they were saying. _What's going on in there? Why are they so angry?_ the dark haired young man wondered. 

Sitting across from him, Draco (Harry's mind just couldn't seem to get back to calling the blonde Slytherin by his surname) seemed a poster boy for cool, collected calmness, as if he were sitting in his home, not outside the Headmaster's office while two teachers argued over him. Whenever their eyes met, Draco would send a smile in the darker haired boy's direction, stirring up memories of the night before and making Harry blush. If the Boy Who Lived could see into Draco's mind, he would have been more than blushing. 

__

He looks delicious, Draco thought to himself. _I can't wait to get him home. It would be priceless just for the expression on my parents faces, but that's just an added bonus. I wonder if Professor Dumbledore has notified them yet or if they'll find out through Father's spies. Well, Grandfather named **me** heir to the Malfoy household, and I'm finally eighteen, I wonder how Father will react to knowing that as of today, I control the Malfoy assets, which won't be supporting Voldemort any more._ A slow smirk slid across the pale man's features. 

"What's so amusing, Malfoy?" Harry demanded, calming down at the familiar expression. 

"Just imaging some things," Draco replied. Silence filled the room, only broken by the muffled shouting, until Harry spoke again. 

"Why?" 

"Hmm?" 

"Why did you...," Harry blushed, "do it?" 

"It? I presume you mean bed you," Draco drawled lazily, causing Harry to squirm and blush more, but the dark haired young man nodded. Draco shrugged, and said, "Because I wanted to. I've wanted you since we met in the robe shop." 

"Oh." Harry looked down, and Draco debated saying more. But before he could, the door opened, and Professor McGonnigal stepped out. 

"Mr. Potter, Mr. Malfoy, Professor Dumbledore will see you now." She stepped out of the way as the boys heading into the office, then glared as Snape left the office. 

Harry sat down tentatively when Dumbledore invited them to sit down, then asked, "Did we do something wrong, sir?" 

"Wrong? Well, it rather depends on your definition of wrong, Mr. Potter." Dumbledore sighed and ran his hand through his silver beard. "Has anyone told you about the rules of sex for witches and wizards?" 

"Rules?" Harry asked, confused. 

Dumbledore nodded. "There are restrictions on just who a person should and shouldn't sleep with... a witch or wizard shouldn't be promiscuous, or they'll lose their ability for magic." 

**__**

"WHAT!?" Harry turned to Draco, figuratively seeing red. "Did you know about this?" 

Draco merely nodded. "It's common knowledge of those raised in the wizarding world. I was counting on you not knowing it, and letting that fact get in the way between us and the bed." 

"Why!?" Harry demanded. "So you can sell me to Voldemort on a silver platter!?" 

"Because as I wanted you the moment I saw you," Draco replied. "As for Voldemort, I have no more love of him than you. My father may be his ally, but _*I*_ am not." 

"That wasn't what you said a year ago." 

"A year ago, I was seventeen and my father could whip me if I dared to disagree with him. Today I am eighteen, and an adult by Muggle and wizard standards." The Boy Who Lived stared, and Draco continued. "My father is a twit, he can't see the betrayal for the power that he POSSIBLY could gain, and he doesn't understand that there are fewer and fewer purebloods, that Muggle born witches and wizards are our future, that they are where our future purebloods will be coming from." 

"B-but..." 

"Why?" Draco supplied. Harry nodded. 

"My father has spies, mainly in the form of Crabbe and Goyle. I'm sure that if Headmaster Dumbledore hasn't told my family what happened last night, my "bodyguards" have. And knowing Father, he's here to try and bluster his way into working this situation to his advantage." 

As if that were his cue, Lucius Malfoy stormed into the office. "What's going on here? What's this I hear about you allowing students to bed each other!?" 

Draco rolled his eyes. "They didn't _allow_ anything, Father. I seduced and bedded the Boy Who Lived." Lucius came to a stop and stared. Draco looked at Harry and murmured, "You might want to cover your ears." The dark haired boy followed the advice just in time. 

**__**

"WHAT!?" the elder Malfoy bellowed. 

Draco turned to his father, perfectly composed. "I decided on my mate. It IS legal for me to do that, considering I'm eighteen as of yesterday." 

Lucius started turning interesting colors. "You had-" 

"No, YOU had no right trying to arrange a marriage for me. I know about the agreement between you and Pansy Parkinson's family, and there is NO way I'm marrying that adlebrained twit! I thought you wanted grandchildren worthy to carry on the Malfoy name, not another pack of idiots!" 

Harry felt forgotten as the two Malfoys glared over his head, and was about to speak when he caught Professor Dumbledore shaking his head, motioning for Harry to remain silent. There was a twinkle of amusement in the old wizard's eyes, and Harry returned his attention to the raging verbal battle. 

"In case you've forgotten, Father, you only had control of Grandfather's estate while I was a child. But now I'm eighteen, and the power in the Malfoy family reverts to it's rightful owner.... _ME!_. What do you have to offer Voldemort now?" Lucius' jaw visibly clenched. 

Harry watched, as the first time in wizarding history, Lucius Malfoy backed down. "What do you want?" Lucius demanded of his son. "Are you going to kick us out?" 

"Not quite. You have a choice. Live in Malfoy manor, keep your opinions about my choice of mate to yourselves, and sever all ties with Voldemort... or I can send you to one of our summer residences, with a yearly sum of money to keep yourself and mother in a manner to which you're accustomed." 

"Do you think you can hold us to that, _boy_," Lucius demanded. The response he got started the elder Malfoy. 

"I know I can, Father," Draco replied in a strangely even tone. "I am Grandfather's heir after all. Do you need a reminder of what _that_ means?" Lucius paled, and Draco leveled a look at his father. "I'll see you later, Father. I have a wedding to plan." 

Lucius glared at his son and then at Harry, then slowly turned and left the office quietly. Draco dropped into the chair with a sigh and ran his hands through his hair, glancing over at Dumbledore. "I think, in the best interest of all of us, we have the wedding here." 

"Hold on, who says I'm marrying you!?" Harry demanded angrily, jumping to HIS feet. 

"You _want_ to lose your talent for magic?" Draco asked. "You _want_ to be like your Muggle relatives?" 

"I'm nothing like them!" 

"Then marry me!" 

**__**

"NO!" 

"Why?" 

"Because... because....." Harry faltered when he couldn't think of a real reason to not marry Draco, and the blonde pressed the advantage, taking Harry's hand. 

"Please, Harry, don't make the both of us pay for my scheming. Marry me, become my life mate, let us both keep our magic talent. I won't touch you if you tell me I can't. We can have seperate sleeping quarters, it's easy enough to arrange at Malfoy Estate." Mentally, he added, _Allow me to woo you._

__

Draco saying please? I must _be dreaming!_ Harry thought wildly. "You swear that you won't touch me, if I don't want you to?" Harry demanded. 

"I swear. By my powers and my honor, if I touch you and you say no, I'll stop." 

Harry sighed, staring down into Draco's silver eyes. "Then yes. I'll marry you." 

***

"You're going to **_WHAT!?_**" 

"Hermione, please," Harry winced. "I don't want this broadcast across the school yet. It's bad enough that I have to go through with this." The three friends had met up in Harry and Ron's room in Gryffindor tower after Harry had returned from the Headmaster's office. 

"Bu- but you're going to m-... m... mmmma-" 

"Marry Draco Malfoy, I know. I'm not thrilled with it... but it's better than losing my magic. He's promised to leave me alone." 

"And you trust him?" Ron demanded. "Malfoy is-" 

"Is just as stuck as I am. If you think _you're_ disgusted with the idea, imagine how Draco must be feeling about this arrangement. He just wants to marry me to keep his magic." Harry banished the memories recalling Draco calling him "my choice of mate". _He didn't mean it, it's not relevant._ He put the last of his robes in the trunk, then shut it. "That's ready to go." He looked around, and said, "It's finally over, isn't it? Our time at Hogwarts. It's time for us to go out into the world to make something of ourselves. We won't be coming back next year for classes." 

"No more Potions? Thank GOD!" Neville cried, as if just realizing it, causing the others to snicker. He'd only been saying it for the last week or so. 

"And no more fights in the hallway with Slytheners," Ron commented. 

"No more escapades while trying to not lose house points," was Hermione's comment. 

"No more Quidditch matches," Harry added. 

"I think I'm gonna cry." Surprisingly, this comment came from Ron. "We won't be together." 

Hermione, as usual, was the voice of reason. "Sure we will.... we'll just have to arrange that we meet up every now and then. England isn't so big. Especially when we can zip around on our broomsticks." 

Neville nodded. "Besides, maybe some time apart is what we need." He glanced at Ron, who blushed some. "Give us a chance to think things out." 

"To get settled into our new lives," Harry whispered, mostly to himself. 

There was a quiet moment of depression, broken by knocking at the door. Professor McGonnigal said, "Your family isn't going to come, Harry. I'm sorry." 

The unofficial leader of the clique shrugged. "I expected that, Professor. They refuse to admit that magic is real, or that I'm even related to them." He sighed. "At least I won't be going back there. What about Draco?" 

"His family is here and waiting in Dumbledore's office." 

Harry nodded, then glanced at his friends. "You're the closest things I have to family.... will you come?" 

The others exchanged glances, then Hermione answered for the three. "Of course, Harry. We'd be honored." 

***

Draco listened as his mother wailed and moaned yet again about "that horrible Potter brat" and rolled his eyes. "Mother, shut up," he finally snapped. "I was the one that bedded him, not the other way around. He's a wizard of great power, he's handsome, his name is of good standing, and best of all, _he has a brain!_ That's more than I can say of any of the female gits you and Father have been trying to pair me off with." 

Draco resisted the urge to laugh at the shock in her face, and turned away, glancing at the doorway anxiously after noting the amusement on the faces of Professors Snape, Sprout, and Flitwick. The heads of the house were there as neutral witnesses to the ceremony, to make it legally, as well as magically, binding. There was no way that Harry would back out.... right? The Malfoy heir started to pace nervously. _He gave me his word, he won't back out, it'll make him too much like his Muggle relatives, hell, backing out will make HIM a Muggle. He won't back out, I won't allow it._ But before he could decide on what to do, the door to the Headmaster office opened again, allowing in Harry, his friends, and Professor McGonnigal. "You came," he said in shock. 

"You sound surprised, Malfoy," Ron replied snidely. "Afraid you were going to lose your magic?" 

Draco bit back his by now habitual insult, eyeing the redhead, then drawled, "Considering that I was the one who gave Longbottom the last little bit of backbone it took for him to admit how he feels for you, Weasley, I would keep my trap shut if I were you. It's rude to insult your friend's future mate at the wedding." The redheaded Gryffindor gaped at the Slytherin, allowing Draco to take his place for the ceremony in peace. 

Dumbledore motioned to Snape, who held out two cups. "You might find the ceremony more comfortable with this," the elder man told the boys. The two glanced at each other, then accepted the cups, downing them, gagging at the extremely bitter taste. But the potions effects could be felt almost immediately as the young men felt almost as if they were floating outside of their bodies, only vaguely aware of what was going on around them. They could hear Dumbledore saying something, but they couldn't follow along with his words, as if he were speaking another language. 

The floating feeling disappeared nearly instantly as a pair of simple, gold and jeweled bands were slid onto each of the boys' wrists, which then magically shrunk to fit to their wrists. Agony shot through the boys as surge after surge of magical energy swept through them, stealing their breaths, taking away their ability to breathe. When the pain finally faded, there was a mild buzzing at the back of their minds. When Harry, the first to recover, focused on the buzzing, the noise formed itself into Draco's thoughts. 

__

Is that even a fraction of what Mother and Father felt when **they** got married? Draco wondered. _No wonder they hate each other. Thank God we didn't wait until the week was nearly up, like they did, if the pain grows worse the longer you wait. But at least the magic is back, and Harry is mine._

****

Love/lust/admiration/fear of losing Harry flashed through Draco at merely thinking Harry's name, causing the darker haired boy to blush some. The blush grew when Harry found himself focusing on the lust and unbidden images of what was obviously some of Draco's more erotic fantasies flashing before his mind's eye. The only reason Harry knew it wasn't memories of the night before was because of the fact that they were in a bedroom different from the blonde student's room at Hogwarts. For one, there was only the one bed, and two, the bedrooms at Hogwarts rarely had fireplaces unless the bedroom belonged to faculty or staff. 

With a jerk, all of the fuzziness and echoing pain disappeared, and Harry seemed to be standing in an empty room, facing Draco. The only difference from what they looked like before the ceremony was the gold bracelets on their right wrists. "What's going on?" Harry asked, looking around. "Weren't we in Dumbledore's office a minute ago? 

"We still are," Draco replied. "It's a type of mental room, we only think we're here. It's.... a sort of peace making room. Grandfather described it to me, once." A vision filled the air between them, an older version of Draco with silver hair stood over a seven year old Draco, talking to him. 

__

"This room is important, young dragon. The more you develop the contents of the room, the better your marriage will be. Your mother and father never really developed their room, and look at them now. Squabbling and arguing, when they're not ignoring each other." 

The vision faded, and Draco shrugged. "Everyone says that I look like him. The painting at Malfoy estates backs them up... I'd... like you to meet him when we get there... he usually has good advice." The air between them shimmered again, and the vision this time was of an 11 year old Draco talking to a painting, and Harry got a sense that this was during the Christmas break their first year at Hogwarts. 

__

"He's so handsome and gifted, Grandfather, I wanted to lock him up and keep him away from everything that could harm him. But Father still says that as a Muggle lover and Mudblood fanatic, I should hate him. He's still furious that they let Harry be on the Gryffindor House Quidditch team." 

"Your father is an insecure coward. For now, do as he orders about Potter. I can't protect you, as much as you're my heir. When you're eighteen, you can-" The vision didn't fade so much as abruptly disappear, and Harry stared at the vividly blushing Draco. "Er, yes... well, I guess you can figure out the rest of his advice," Draco said, fidgeting nervously. Harry blinked, then realized that Draco was acting shy. "Er..... you don't hate me, do you? For bedding you?" 

Harry opened his mouth to answer, but was cut off as the air shimmered between them. This time, it was Madam Malkin's robe shop. Eleven year old Harry had just entered, and the grown up Harry could feel young Draco feel the strange mix of emotions that grownup Harry knew, even now, that Draco felt for him. But at that time, instead of fear of losing Harry, the fear was of those emotions, that Draco wasn't sure how to handle them. The vision again just vanished, like the last one, quashed by Draco, and Harry knew, more than anything, that Draco hadn't mean anything mean or evil by bedding Harry, that the young man had just wanted a way to show his love how he felt. And the dark haired boy knew how to respond. He called up a memory of his own, of when he realized that he loved Draco, had as soon as he had met the blonde, and always would. 

__

This was between the third and fourth years, while at the World Quidditch Cup. Harry was laying in the tent, and couldn't sleep. He was just staring up at the roof of the tent, when the thought, **I love Draco Malfoy** flashed through his mind. The orphan sat up quickly, his eyes bugging out, and he muttered, "What am I thinking? I can't love him.... can I?" He realized he needed night air, so grabbed his wand and stepped out of the tent, stretching as soon as he emerged. **Okay, let's take this one step at a time,** Harry thought. **Do I love Draco Malfoy?** He searched his memories, then came to the inarguable conclusion that yes, he loved the blond Slytherin. 

Draco stared at Harry as the dark haired wizard killed the memory. "Y- you love me?" he asked, not quite getting himself up to the believing stage yet. "Even after everything I've done to make life for you and your friends miserable?" 

"I love you," Harry nodded. "Even after all that, and before I found out why you did them." He held a hand out to his husband and life mate, and when Draco took it, Harry pulled the blonde man to him gently, wrapping his other arm around Draco's waist. "I love you, your pride, your stubbornness, your good looks, and your ability to challenge me. You're the only person in the school with the balls to challenge me to a wizard's duel, I hope you realize that." 

"Well, it was the only way I could get you to pay attention to me... or so I thought," Draco said, draping his own free arm around Harry. "I could stop if you want me to." 

"Nah. They were fun, or they would have been if I hadn't been so flaming angry at you." Harry realized, like this, he was taller than the blonde, that his nose came to the top of Draco's head, and he nuzzled into the blonde hair. "Besides, we could always add an interesting twist to the duels." A wicked smirk grew on Harry's face, and he added, "The loser gets to be the other's bed slave for a week?" 

"Harry, you hentai!" Draco laughed. 

"What?" 

"_Hentai_.... Japanese word for pervert. I'm... kinda into anime and sentai," Draco admitted with a blush. A flash filled the air with images of long legged girls in short skirted sailor outfits, kids with strange looking monsters, and a yellow rat with red cheeks and a tail shaped like a lightning bolt. The last image was of a group of fighters in spandex in battle with strange looking monsters. 

"Power Rangers? You watch... Power Rangers?" Harry gaped. 

Draco gave a sheepish shrug. "It's got really cute guys on it?" Harry threw his head back and laughed. 

***

Draco slowly opened his eyes is see Professor Snape lean over him, concerned. "Wh- what's wrong?" the former student croaked, then licked at dry lips. There was a faint taste of the potion back there, enough to ease the agony of a painfully dry throat by memory alone. "Why is it so dark?" 

"You've been out all day. Are you feeling all right?" Snape asked. 

"Fine. Where's Harry?" Draco demanded, trying to sit up. 

"Lay still. He's on the next bed over." Snape motioned, and Draco could see Harry, who was still peacefully asleep. "Headmaster Dumbledore says that the length of unconsciousness is proportional to the amount of talent the wedding couple has, but I've never heard of a wedding ceremony knocking it's main participants out for 12 hours." Dryly, Snape added, "I hope you know what you got yourself into, Malfoy." The black haired man stood up, and said, "Rest. The others have already left for home, and you and Mr. Potter should be able to leave in the morning, according to Nurse Pomfrey." 

Draco watched Harry, and sighed. _He's finally mine, for good._ Draco could feel sleep dragging at him, and gave up on the real world to fade back into dreams. 

To Be Continued


End file.
